A Full Circle
by originalworksof
Summary: Alessandra wanted to make sure her brother got safely into Skyrim. However, she didn't expect to be captured by the Imperials by mistake. After escaping, she is thrown into a foreign world with no connection to her home. How will she survive? Rated for a few lemons here and there


Guys! It's been ages. Anyway, so I got Skyrim for my birthday and I've made my second character (who was just a reboot of the first one) and then I was like, "holy shit, it's headcanon city!" so then I started writing. And this is what happens!

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"Alexander!" The soldiers all turned to see a young Imperial woman running to them. Their eyes flew to a man closest to her. He frowned slightly. The woman was clutching the skirt of her blue dress as she ran towards them. The woman flung herself into his arms and he caught her by the waist. He spun her around and set her down gently. Her arms tightened around his back and he held her closer to him. The night air was silent and the horses shifted.

"Sister?" He asked in her dark hair as he rubbed her back affectionately. He pulled her at arm's length and noticed that they were tears in her eyes. "Alessandra, what's wrong?" He thumbed the tears from her eyes. He traced over her purple tattoos by her eyes and ran a finger down her nose, touching the left pierced nostril.

"I-we…" She shook her head at him. Her long, black hair covered her face and he smoothed it behind her ears. "We don't want you to go, Alexander. We don't want you dead." He sighed and pulled her into another hug. He glanced back at the other soldiers who looked at him sympathetically.

"I know. I know you don't. But we must defeat Ulfric Stormcloak or at least try. I will tell uncle hello from you. I know he loves you the most." She hiccupped against his chest and nodded slowly. Their uncle was General Tullius and their whole family was well versed in warfare. If need be, they would be able to defend themselves in a fight.

"Mamá wanted you to have this. It was her father's knife." She pulled away from him and pulled out a glass dagger from her satchel. Alexander's eyes widened. He held the blade to the moon and it glowed a strange blue color instead of green. He attacked the air and the blade left a blue trail in its wake. It was a well-crafted blade. He smiled at his sister. However, he did not tie the blade to his waist and Alessandra watched him carefully. He pressed the blade into her hands.

"Thank you, Alessandra. I want you to keep the dagger; it would be more use to you. Tell Mamá that I will write soon. Take care of our brothers." He kissed her lightly on the cheek. He drank in his youngest and only sister's face in. She had wide, child-like eyes that would never be hardened by the dangers of war, the loss of comrades, or the anger of men who could've been her friends. Her waist length hair was still clean and her skin was pure. Her mouth never pulled into a frown and at the worst, pouted. Alexandra sighed inwardly. He was not just fighting for his country; he was fighting for his sister so that she may never experience the troubles of war. He turned away from her.

"Alexander." Her voice rang clear in the night. He had never heard it sound so cold and sure. Her voice was always sweet like honey; she had been able to charm her way into getting most things. Her voice, however, as she spoke his name, sounded akin to the sword at his side. She took three steps and kissed him on the mouth. It was a traditional farewell and greeting in their family, but they both knew that the kiss meant goodbye. When she pulled back, he noted her determined eyes with her soft, round face. He knew it was the final good and there was no hope he was going to see her or his family again.

"Do not get into trouble, my Saint Alessia." She nodded with her firm set lips and bawled fists. Their mother had named Alessandra over Saint Alessia and himself. He thought it was fitting since she seemed to be able to rally people into a cause. Alexander had always chosen to ignore the fact that Alessandra seemed to be more important that him, however. He was the first-born and should have more say than his youngest sister, but some how, the people listened to her first. He wondered if she had been practicing her magic on the poor people. With a sigh, a turned his back and began to walk with his fellow soldiers who soon bursts in light conversations about the Stormcloaks.

Alessandra was used to grinning at the nickname and feeling protected with her eldest brother, but as she watched the night swallow his form, she felt alone and terrified. She clutched the dagger in her hand with an icepick grip. The night did not scare her, but she still felt exposed. No man attacked her in the night and when she came to the Imperial City. A guard nodded at her and she slowly lowered the blade to her waist. She sighed and stood in front of her door for a moment. She opened the door and she could hear her mother sobbing at the kitchen. As she entered, she took off her shoes and placed them in the shelf. She headed into the kitchen. Her twin brothers, Erik and Erin looked up at her. Their eyes pried at her body for any trace of luck at bringing their elder brother home. She did not meet their gaze and traced the wooden table with a finger. Erik tightened and Erin squeezed their mother's shoulder. Alessandra sighed.

"Mamá." She looked up at her daughter. She could tell by Alessandra's body that her son was not coming home. Alessandra did not look up and her lips were slightly parted. She scratched at the table and caved her shoulders and head inward. The older woman inhaled sharply. Alessandra shook her head. Their mother began sobbing again and the twins hugged their mother. Erin motioned for her to go up the stairs, and Alessandra had already turned around.

She bathed and dressed in her nightclothes, which composed of simple cotton pants and Alexander's shirt. She had never understood why other women wore dresses to sleep when pants had more freedom. She was lying in bed with an arm across her eyes. She listened for her father coming from a meeting with the Elder Council. Her other brothers, Æton, Maitiú, and Ross, had arrived earlier. She listened to her father ask his sons to head to bed. The brothers argued stating that they should be allowed to help their mother. Their father had just sighed and asked them once more to leave. Ross left to tend to his wife. Æton and Maitiú came upstairs. With a sigh, Æton fell on the bed without changing his clothes. Maitiú had sighed and Alessandra feigned sleep. He slowly changed his brother's clothes and pulled his ring off. He placed Æton's engagement ring on the side table. Æton gave a small sound of protest and Alessandra exhaled. Maitiú pulled the blanket on his younger brother and came to sit on his sister's bed.

"What do you think will happen if he doesn't come back?" Maitiú's voice was soft in the night. Behind closed eyes, Alessandra saw her brother dead and mangled from a Nord's hand. She shuddered but did not speak. Maitiú began to trace his finger along her face. She did not know why she felt so comfortable with Maitiú. Each of brothers had treated her exceptionally well and she felt different with each of them. When she was with Maitiú, she felt as thought he knew exactly what to say to her. He spoke gently and easily. She had picked up on her charm via him even though he lightly scolded her when she teased a few of the boys from the city.

"I-I should go after him." Maitiú's hands clasped her wrists tightly and her eyes opened. The room was bathed in a strange blue light from the full moon. Maitiú's eyes were steady and he barely shook his head.

"Would you let mother grieve another child? You are her only daughter, Alessandra. Do not give her that heartache." If Alessandra had closed her eyes and settled in the bed, she would never had gone through this whole ordeal. Instead, stubbornly, she shook her head at him and dispatched his charming words from her mind.

"He is our brother, Maitiú. Let me just make sure he gets to Skyrim safely." She spoke the other country's name softly as though Cyrodiil would freeze over. "I should be back in a day or so. Tell Mamá that I am doing an experiment with Aaron. He's always begging me and Mamá likes him, so I'm sure she will believe you." Maitiú sighed and kissed her on the forehead. The gesture was so familiar, but Alessandra felt a tear slid along her cheek as well as one falling from her nose.

"Stay safe, Alessandra. Please."

That was the fifteenth of Last Seed.

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This story isn't going to get any hits. I can already tell. So, anyway, all the names of the brothers come from a story I wrote in the seventh grade. I realize that they are a little too...Nordic/Celtic but fuck it! I've only played Skyrim out of the TES (sorry), so I'm not that good with Imperial stuff. So I've been making a few guesses and using Solitude as a base. I watched the DB walkthrough of Oblivion and...yeah, I can't do that. I'm sorry. If there is something that I wrote that doesn't seem accurate, please do tell. Also, I took liberties with all the character's ages.

Hey, how to Dunmer age exactly? Are they like humans or do they live for a few hundred years before dying?

(P.S. How come all the best people can't be married. That's right, I'm talking to you Byrnjolf.)


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